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by stripped-down-to-skeletons (and_the_devil_laughs)



Category: Kpop - Fandom, Super Junior
Genre: Comfort, Depression mention, Established Relationship, Healing, M/M, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:45:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_the_devil_laughs/pseuds/stripped-down-to-skeletons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, Jungsoo is home, though the circumstances aren't what anyone expected. Sungmin knows how to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> This is about healing and their love for each other, and references real incidents that happened to Jungsoo. I don't consider it too heavy, but it mentions suicide and depression in passing.
> 
> Toby saved this piece.

He wasn’t sure how it was supposed to go this time around. It’s a natural thing, military enlistment being a part of his life as it was a part of every person in Korea. If you weren’t enlisting, you were seeing a loved one off. It was something he’s handled dozens of times -- each one a safe return for family and friends. He was always there, always waiting with arms open to embrace the people he loved.

It had been about four months since Sungmin last saw Jungsoo -- he was on break, and for what little time he had off he spent with his sister. The time before that, Jungsoo’s emergency leave, and Sungmin could only ever apologize and pray and give Jungsoo the space he needed. The time he needed to heal and grieve and be with what family he had left.

There’s not really a protocol for this, he thinks, waiting in the dorms with the rest of the members. Their manager was bringing Jungsoo back from discharge as they all waited for him -- a meal was en route (Ryeowook and Henry both cooking, a not-exactly-competition to show off who was the better cook), the common rooms cleaned and ready and filled with that nervous-excited energy that usually followed these sorts of things. The destination at the end of such a long road was like crossing a swamp, only to enter the great unknown of a new terrain.

Jungsoo was starting life as a citizen -- an idol -- again and everyone had their opinions on how well that would go along. Maybe he’d take to it, a fish to water. Maybe he’d drop out. Maybe he wouldn’t know and everyone was already starting with presumptions before he even stepped foot in the dorms, and they were thinking too far ahead (which was Sungmin’s only contribution to that conversation). 

It’s a lot to ask of a man who lost everything, who, despite seeming to be getting on better now that the funeral is over a year in the past, would shoulder everything as soon as he returned to his role as leader. It didn’t take a psychic to see that he’d be dropping his responsibility from the military, only to shoulder the responsibility of the team.

Sungmin was in the living room, the door in earshot as he twirled a straw between his fingers. His drink was untouched, his thoughts too deep for the afternoon.  _ Would he even want this life again? _

He cringed, the way he could only think about how he’d be getting Jungsoo back. Not his leader or hyung or entertainment professional -- just Jungsoo, the man who cried on his shoulder when the world took too much from him and who hardly looked at him the last he’d seen him. The man who shared his burdens, to becoming so detached that when he heard the news, that he was on suicide watch, he had no idea it got that bad.

It was selfish, he thought, pulling his snapback down over his eyes. Selfish, the way he wants  _ his _ Jungsoo back and how he wanted him to be ready to push them into that fantasy he never, ever said aloud. The one about them living together and being so ridiculously in love that it was more children’s tales than reality. 

Even worse, he thinks, is that he’s bringing down the mood. For Christ’s sake, Jungsoo was back and far away from immediate danger -- and here Sungmin is, on the couch, hat overshadowing his eyes and his arms crossed tensely in front of him in body language that anyone would read as  _ back off _ . 

He turned his head, pulled from his thoughts when the sounds from outside suddenly grabbed his attention. 

The door clicked softly, behind Sungmin and a wall and a stairwell -- their manager spoke discreetly, and Sungmin’s heart skipped a beat to hear Jungsoo’s equally quiet answer, a something  _ hum _ and a weight-relieving sigh.

He chuckled gently, and Sungmin could picture the head cock that came with such a deceivingly innocent sound. His stomach and lungs and skin buzzed with anticipation and now, all he cared about was  _ seeing _ and  _ hearing _ him. The past year disappeared in the tides of thought and Sungmin was getting up and walking to meet his boyfriend, not another thought daring to take away from this moment.

Obviously, he wasn’t the only one to hear Jungsoo’s intentionally uneventful entrance. The crowd of members was full, fifteen people in the small confines of the little hallway, quiet anticipation finally meeting the momentum of the moment and everyone was caught like Jungsoo, like they were all finally breathing for the first time in years. 

Everyone was getting their hugs, their gentle laughs in, getting to tease their hyung before they had to give him his space. Ryeowook and Henry were the first to leave to tend to the food, and then they were thinning in numbers quickly.

Donghae was crying and when Sungmin parted his way he saw the scene, Donghae’s head cradled in one of Jungsoo’s hands, the other wrapped around his back. Donghae’s arms anchored around Jungsoo, holding onto reality like it might slip away and it might have, Sungmin thought, thinking of the last time he got to see Jungsoo and how quickly it came and went.

Sungmin understood the sentiment -- he couldn’t wait to get his hands around Jungsoo, to let him know he could finally rest his head and his soul.

Jungsoo spotted him, eyes turned from adorative glistening from hugging Donghae to being lit with energy and a deep current of sadness. Maybe something that lurked just beyond the surface that he’d understand later, when the night was over and the layers of politeness stripped away.

Sungmin smiled back, laughing at the stunned look on his face when their gazes settled. “Hey.”

Donghae heard Sungmin, and he didn’t look like he wanted to pull away, but he did, dragging his hand across his face to obscure his puffy eyes.

Jungsoo patted Donghae’s back before taking a sure step to Sungmin, then gently pulling him into a hug that was like being wrapped in fresh linens, warmed from the sun and as close to home as he would ever feel.

Jungsoo was quick to pull back, detaching slowly and unsurely. Oh, yes, right.  _ Not now _ . Don’t don’t make a scene, don’t cry, be a leader first.

Jungsoo was already crying.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispered, a crack in his voice that was as slight as the change in his shoulders, strung tight to slack in just a few visible seconds. 

Sungmin swallowed, slowly filling with a certainty that he was glad to have. “I missed you so --” 

Sungmin had no chance, not against Donghae and his strength and his spontaneity. He was pushed back into Jungsoo’s arms, a sniffling laugh coming from behind him. “Just kiss already, oh my God.”

That’s all it took for the tension to break and when it did, laughter came after. They kissed, a few seconds, not nearly enough to satisfy the past 18 months, but it read like braille and it promised more, much more, later.

And the whirlwind of food and conversation and, admittedly, more crying came and went with dinner and soju and dessert. It was strange, how little changed, Sungmin thought, with one very large exception.

He squeezed Jungsoo’s hand as he told a story, something from the army involving a prank that was an especially bad idea at the time. He watched his profile, watched Jungsoo grow warrier and more exhausted as his eyes glistened from sleepiness.

It wrapped up quickly. Early, yes, though no one could blame anyone for it. Heechul would normally try, but as Sungmin stood to help clean out, it was obvious that he was passed out drunk and certainly  _ not _ sitting on the couch.

“Hey, come with me,” Sungmin whispered in Jungsoo’s ear, the work out of the way and it barely being eleven. Jungsoo raised his brow, questioning with his eyes. Sungmin grabbed his hand, grinning, hoping confidence is enough to ask blind obedience. “Just trust me?”

Jungsoo nodded. “Of course.”

Sungmin lead them upstairs, ignoring the eyes from the other members (however approving or amused). He felt the curiosity, knew the questions that Jungsoo didn’t ask, and smiled when he led them to his room. He remembered that once so-recent memory of this exact situation, where he was gathering things and Jungsoo was watching and neither of them were speaking. A lot has changed, the way his hand and heart were steady.

He took his towels from a drawer, a shampoo and soap from another. 

He turned to Jungsoo, items in hand and wrapped in towels. He smiled wearily, tired but too happy for words. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna have kinky sex. I just thought you’d like a shower.”

Jungsoo didn’t have a reason to, but a soft blush crawled up his neck and Sungmin bit back a giggle. “Oh… you and --”

“Yes.”

Jungsoo never looked shy -- either entertainment or the military beat it out of him -- but he did look vulnerable, all delicate eyes and clasped hands and eyes peeking from underneath eyelashes, and he nodded again,  _ yes _ . 

Sungmin lead the short way, Jungsoo behind him a step.

He turned the light on and locked the door behind them. He ran the water, tested the temperature ( _ “shit, too hot” _ )  and put the stopper in the drain. Jungsoo sat on the perfectly clean counter (god bless Ryeowook and Hyukjae’s cleaning and oneupsmanship) watching wordlessly with his back to the mirror.  _ It’s good this way _ , Sungmin thought, turning off the tap and letting the room return to its quiet self.

Jungsoo was stripping when Sungmin turned back to him, and Sungmin tried his damnedest not to stare because good god did he miss this, his body and how freely he showed it. He never forgot what Jungsoo looked like, but reminders never hurt.

Sungnin took the first step in, taking Jungsoo by the hand. It was some sort of gesture, far broader than just leading him to the bath, and frankly neither of them would want to consider it right now. The steam and warmth and dim lights mattered more right now than the possibilities of the future.

“Is it warm enough?” Sungmin asked, sunk into the water with Jungsoo in front of him, broad shouldered and with muscles that Sungmin was certain weren’t there two years ago. He looked a little thin, a little rugged, the well defined lines of his body a shape he wasn’t familiar with.

“Yes, yes,” Jungsoo said, softly, energy drained. “It’s perfect.”

_ You’re perfect.  _

Sungmin took the cup from the side of the tub, filling it with water and then draping it over Jungsoo’s shoulders, his arms. Slowly, like magic, or maybe it was sleep coating his eyes, Jungsoo’s ruggedness, the tough look of his skin and the frailty that he saw there dripped away.

He poured water over his hair tilting his head back and running his hand to smooth over the current, to guide it away from his eyes. Jungsoo let him tilt his head, this way, that way, any way that Sungmin needed.

His hair was in a lather, the scent of lavender sticking to the warm air even as it was being washed away. 

Other people would have talked, would have said or done something. Sungmin thought that if anything, they didn’t have to.

Not right away, anyway. Sungmin pressed his lips to his neck, wetting them on lavender scented water.

“ _ Hmm _ . Miss me, yeah?”

Sungmin giggled into his neck, snorting. “A bit self centered of you, isn’t it? Thinking I’ve been waiting around and missing you this whole time?”

Jungsoo chuckled, Sungmin felt it with his cheek pressed against the crook of his neck and shoulder. “Oh, my mistake then,” Jungsoo corrected. He scooted back, leaning into Sungmin’s chest and laying to rest between his legs.

Chest to back, Sungmin wrapped his hands around Jungsoo’s waist, clasping his hands together and shivering when Jungsoo laid his own hands to rest on his. His fingers tightened, then loosened, an unsteady rhythm of familiarity, laced with a sadness as deep as sinking stones.

“I really did,” Sungmin said, whispering it into a kiss he pressed to his temple. “I missed you so much. It’s been so hard without you.”

“You have no idea.”

Sungmin kissed him again, heaving a sigh.  _ No, not really _ . 

He didn’t want to be the one to open the wound, but the wound was already there and it needed to be cleaned before it could heal. Maybe Jungsoo felt his resolve, because he tensed above him just before the words left his mouth. “Hey… are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.”

Bullshit. “Jungsoo... please talk to me. You can’t… not talk.”

“If there were something to talk about, you know I would.”

“Then you’re saying you’re okay? That everything just fixed itself in only a few months?”

Jungsoo was trying, he really was, holding himself together with all his effort that Sungmin could feel the shaking through their contact alone. Trying to be strong, or force himself to be okay like he was saying he was -- whichever it was, it was breaking Sungmin’s heart.

Jungsoo stilled a breath, steadying himself. “I’m… okay. I’ve been better, but this isn’t the worst… does that make sense?”

_ Yeah, it does _ . Sungmin kissed his neck, nodding with an agreeing  _ mmhmm.  _

“I’m not dangerous, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Of course I’m worried about it,” Sungmin tried his best not to sound angry or mad or upset or cry. “I’ll always worry about you and that’s only one reason and of course I -- I want you to be safe. Be okay. Even if it means you can’t… can’t be with me, or the group or…”

“I’m sorry…” Jungsoo’s hands stiffened. 

He knows he means it. He just doesn’t know for what reason, but he knows he doesn’t have to be. “You don’t need to be. It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s really, really not. I wish we had the time to talk after the funeral, ”-- a deep shiver shook him, a radiating anger and sorrow that ended up canceling itself out -- “ and I completely cut you off. I cut everyone off, and I -- I almost --” He was cut off with a sob that strangled the breath out of him.  He turned his head, breathing in shakily like maybe that would stop him from breaking. “I cut you off and I didn’t say anything and I needed you so badly… I can’t believe the way I acted. I can’t believe a word of this past year and I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no,” and Sungmin’s hold was secure. A sheet of paper couldn’t get between them. This was  _ wrong _ and corrupted and it was probably the saddest thing Sungmin has ever seen. How can someone as good as Jungsoo lose his family and blame himself? “You lost… fuck, you lost  _ everything _ . You lost your family and you lost your privacy and you served our country and you fucking deserved to have your space. I don’t blame you for that. I… I don’t hate you for anything.”

Jungsoo sniffled. Sungmin felt him tense, a wave of tension coming and leaving. “I do.”

Sungmin didn’t want to cry and he was so fucking close to it, but he couldn’t. He kissed Jungsoo again, like a lifeline in wait. 

“I’m okay… Sungmin, I’m okay. I was worse and now I’m not.”

“It’s just… it’s okay if you’re not… okay. Just… I don’t want you to stay like -- like that. Not okay, not in a good place, not feeling safe or needed or loved or, I don’t know, anything. I want you to feel okay with me, with talking to me…”

Jungsoo nodded, and on some level, maybe, Sungmin was getting through. Maybe. 

“I’m… I’m not gonna make you talk, about a thing, about anything you don’t want to. But Jungsoo, hey, look at me.”

He did. 

“I’ll be here,” he kissed him. “I’ll be yours and I’ll love you and I’ll trust you. I don’t want to lose you.”

Jungsoo kissed him back, with more feeling than before. He was slowly turning toward Sungmin, working his way so they sort of faced each other. Sungmin still saw the life in his eyes, even in the dim light. It only emphasised the way Jungsoo looked at him when their kissing slowed and then stopped. “I love you,” he exhaled, returning to the warmth of Sungmin’s body. The water was cooled, leaching warmth from their bodies like snow melting in the presence of fire.

“I love you.”

“As much as I love you, can we please get out now? I appreciate the bath but,” Jungsoo looked southward, chuckling a bit at the limp, shrinking region. “I would rather be in bed. With you,” he added, kissing his cheek.

Sungmin chuckled, dragging his fingers up and down Jungsoo’s back and shoulders. “Sure, just don’t slip and fall, old man.”

Jungsoo barked out a laugh. “Hey, maybe I can get some insurance money if I break my hip. Faulty bathroom design, I think.”

Back to old man jokes. Sungmin could almost feel the relief between the both of them, the thankful thoughts for the change of subject as they dried each other off.

Sungmin let the water down, then took the towel in hand. Jungsoo was staring off into the mirror, maybe at himself, or maybe through himself. Sungmin was behind him, dripping wet but focusing on the man in front of him, his figure in the dimness. Sungmin’s free hand wandered up Jungsoo’s back, parting what little hair he had at the nape of his neck. The military took a lot from him, Sungmin thought, dragging his fingers through the short strands.

He caught eyes with Jungsoo in the mirror, aborting his course of action immediately when he remembered just what Jungsoo’s image meant for him. It hurt him, all those months ago, when he had to cut it all off. Reminders weren’t welcome.

Jungsoo looked down, the moment broken as soon as Sungmin got to working. His hair, as short as it was, was dried faster than it took to wet it. They were done and leaving the room behind them quickly, the sound of the drain falling out of earshot.

Sungmin walked ahead, a dangerous hold his towel had on his hips as they clung to his gait. Jungsoo shut the door, a  _ click _ securing them in the room that Sungmin took over when other members started to move out.

He reached into the drawer across from his bed, pulling a pair of sleep clothes out: a white tee a size too large and pants of the same color. Both were made of the lightest material that was crisp and fresh and comfortable. Sungmin stared at them, overshadowed by his frame as he clenched them in both fists.  It wasn’t anything extravagant, not by a long shot. But it seemed appropriate. 

It was supposed to be a coming back gift. It didn’t really seem like enough now, paling in comparison to what he deserved. 

Sungmin turned, clothes in hand, facing Jungsoo, who hadn’t made a move. He took a few steps and pressed the mass of sleeping clothes into Jungsoo’s only hand spare hand. “Here,” he said, hands lingering. 

Jungsoo unfolded his gift, unravelling the new articles with a look in his eyes that made Sungmin smile. He looked overwhelmed, eyes drinking in all the details from such a plain set of clothes. 

He must have been having a hard time with words, with handling love -- Sungmin kissed him, accepting the silent  _ thank you _ that he knew Jungsoo was praying he’d hear. He turned his back to dress, slipping into shorts and a tank top and nothing more.

Jungsoo pulled Sungmin into bed as soon as the lights were out, arms wrapped around his waist, mirroring their positions in the bath, just in reverse. Jungsoo hooked his legs around Sungmin’s, twining them in a loose knot. 

The soft city light from outside the window sent two faded columns of light down their legs, over the sheets and crossing the decorative pillows they’d tossed out of the way. The street was quiet, the house was quiet -- they were quiet, in drowsy-ness and content resolve to fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

The first time in… too long.

Jungsoo kissed Sungmin’s shoulder, lips hovering. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Waiting. And, also, the clothes.”

Sungmin’s heart beat a little faster. Just a bit. “Of course I did. I didn’t fall in love with you just to fall out of it for a few measly months, did I?”

Jungsoo giggled with very little energy. “Mmmhm. Right.”

“Now go to sleep, okay? We can sleep in as long as we want and you don’t have to do shit when we’re up.”

Sungmin felt some sort of confirmation, some sort of  _ okay _ that wasn’t said but sort of sighed. Jungsoo’s breath steadied to a rhythm of slow inhales and long exhales, arms slacking around his waist the longer he fell into sleep. 

Sungmin followed soon after, when he was certain that when he woke up, he’d still be in reaching distance from Jungsoo. That fear that threatened to overrun him, that dared to do so every morning he dreamed he had Jungsoo back, faded into the back of his thoughts as he drifted into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment if you like it? Thank you


End file.
